


Johnny

by Emeraldsnows



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kid Fic, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldsnows/pseuds/Emeraldsnows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Congratulations, Dean. It's a boy."<br/>Dean is at a complete loss when the angels present him with a baby they claim is his half angel son. Facing down the apocalypse gets a lot harder with a baby to deal with.</p>
<p>This story follows the events of Supernatural starting late season 4 on through to the end of season 8</p>
<p>(Updates every other Thursday)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Johnny

**Author's Note:**

> I've been mulling this idea around for just over a year now. All it took was me rewatching a few episodes and thinking "How would that scene go with the addition of a kid?" My mind is a dangerous place. So introducing the Destiel love child fanfic I couldn't let go. Enjoy!

Dean Smith had a routine to his mornings. He woke up at 6:00 A.M. to the sound of his alarm, turned it off and got up instead of hitting the snooze button like so many other people he knew were wont to do. Shucked off his pajamas and tossed them into the laundry basket before walking into the bathroom. Started the shower warm enough to be comfortable but still cold enough to wake him up fully. Dried off after and began to dress for work.

Dressed in black slacks, black socks, and his favorite blue striped button down, Dean made his way into the kitchen to start mixing his daily dose of the master cleanse. The sky outside the window was just starting to lighten as the sun began its ascent into the sky. Dean could hear the bustle of the city beginning as people headed off to their day jobs. He stretched his arms out above his head, behind his back, around his sides. A few of his joints popped satisfactorily but there was definitely soreness in his lower back. Dean frowned and made a mental note to schedule time with his masseuse later in the week.

The sun had just started to make an appearance around the nearby skyscrapers when upset noises started emanating from the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. With a sigh, Dean made his way down the hall to the second bedroom.

The nursery was painted a soft blue with cloud patterned wallpaper trim. The dresser by the door, made of a light brown wood, was covered with children’s books, bottles, and a few baby clothes Dean had yet to put away in the drawers properly. The changing table against the right wall held numerous high-end baby supplies and a stack of about a month’s worth of Pampers sat on the plush carpet beside it. The crib, set just to the side of the room’s only window, contained a handful of plush animals and, most importantly, Dean’s two-month-old son.

Ducking around the plush star mobile, Dean reached into the crib and scooped up the increasingly cranky baby.

“Morning to you too, Johnny,” Dean said softly. He carried the baby over to the changing table, holding him firmly in one arm as he moved aside wipes and baby powder. Dean set Johnny down on the plush covering, mindful of his head. Keeping his hand on the baby’s belly to keep him steady, Dean reached down for a fresh diaper. “So you’re dad had a really weird week.”

Johnny squirmed unhelpfully as Dean began changing his diaper. “I fought a ghost with a guy at work. Weird to think they’re real, huh?”

The only answer Dean got was an unhappy whine as he switched out Johnny’s star patterned pjs for a simple green onesie with “Daddy’s Little Angel” printed on the front in cutsie letters. “What’s wrong? You like this shirt, you look great in it.”

Dean scooped the baby up once he was done, tossing the dirty diaper into the bin before leaving the nursery. Back in the kitchen, Dean finished up mixing his master cleanse elixir and poured it into a silver thermos. His stomach growled slightly but Dean ignored it. He was going to stay strong and stick to his diet.

“Yummy stuff, kiddo,” Dean said when Johnny made grabby hands for the thermos. “It’s going to make your dad nice and healthy. Gets rid of that stubborn flab.”

Johnny started up again and Dean knew he was asking to be fed. Dean grabbed a bottle of ready-to-use formula from the pantry and a clean bottle from the counter top next to the sink. Johnny was on the verge of a full blown screaming fit by the time Dean poured the formula and popped the nipple into Johnny’s mouth. The baby settled comfortably in Dean’s arms, sucking down formula greedily. Dean’s stomach growled again.

It didn’t take long for Johnny to finish his breakfast but a quick glance at the oven clock let Dean know he was going to be late if he didn’t leave within the next ten minutes.

“Time to go,” Dean said, grabbing his suit jacket and the packed diaper bag from off the couch on his way out of the apartment. He tossed the bag in the back seat before placing Johnny in the car seat. He spent nearly five minutes struggling with the straps around the squirmy baby before Johnny was finally secured and ready to go. Dean tucked a soft yellow blanket around the baby’s legs.

Dean continuously told himself that one of these days he would get a hang of strapping his kid into the car seat. Probably the day before Johnny started driving, with his luck.

He felt a hint of unease driving his son into work that day. He’d only just killed the malevolent spirit haunting the building the night before. How was he supposed to know if there were other ghosts hanging around the offices? He kept himself calm by reminding himself that at least he knew how to fight them off and keep Johnny safe. It made him think about what that Wesson guy had said about traveling the country and helping others with ghost problems…

Johnny had fallen into a light sleep by the time Dean pulled into the Sandover parking lot. Dean couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face as Johnny crankily scrunched his face when Dean opened the door. He shifted the blanket from around Johnny to cover the baby carrier completely and managed to unhook it with minimal struggle. He walked into the main entrance of the building, smiling in welcome at the people he recognized milling about. The elevator was surprisingly empty that morning, only three other passengers standing respectfully apart. Dean recognized the only woman in the elevator as one of the managers from two floors above him though he couldn’t remember her name. She looked inquisitively at the baby carrier.

“Did I miss the take your child to work day memo?” She asked good-naturedly.

Dean grinned. “Baby sitter canceled last minute.” He cautiously pulled the blanket aside to reveal Johnny who seemed to have given up entirely on sleep. The baby was trying his hardest to bat at the brightly colored toys hanging from the handle of the carrier.

“He’s precious,” the woman said. The other two occupants of the elevator cast sidelong looks at them as they spoke. The elevator dinged on the 10th floor and one of the men got off. “How old is he?”

“Two months,” Dean said proudly.

The elevator door dinged again a few floors up and the other man stepped out.

“His mother wasn’t able to help look after him?” the woman asked in a way that was trying to be polite.

Dean shrugged. “She’s not really in the picture at the moment.”

The woman made a sympathetic noise. She smiled at him as the door opened up on Dean’s floor. “I hope he doesn’t distract you too much from your work, Mr. Smith. I’ve heard good things about you from Mr. Adler.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Dean said, leaving her in the elevator with a small farewell wave. He casually made his way to his office six doors down. Dean unlocked the door and kicked down the doorstopper, propping the door open behind him. He settled the baby carrier in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Johnny seemed perfectly content sitting in the carrier so Dean let him be while he started his work for the day.

Dean managed an hour and a half of typing up various invoices before his attention began to wander. He felt suddenly restless. The thrill Dean had felt hunting down the ghost still thrummed in the back of his mind. The odd satisfaction of watching the spirit go up in flames after nearly getting his ass handed to him was more than addicting. Dean felt an inexplicable _need_ to hunt again.

He had to think things through, though. Dean had responsibilities, with work, with his son. They had stability here that would not exist traipsing across the countryside, literally _seeking out_ danger. There was no way Dean could up root his and Johnny’s lives so completely. Even if he did so to help other people…

A knock at the door pulled Dean out of his thoughts. Mr. Adler, the balding man that was his boss, smiled at him from the doorway before entering.

“How are you doing today, Dean?” Mr. Adler asked. He shut the door quietly behind him before taking a seat in the free chair in front of Dean’s desk.

“Everything’s good, sir,” Dean answered, smiling slightly at his boss. Johnny made a cheerful noise from the baby carrier, drawing Mr. Adler’s attention toward him.

“I see you brought the tyke with you today,” Adler commented with a raised eyebrow.

“The usual babysitter wasn’t able to make it today,” Dean explained. “It’s not a problem, is it?”

“No, no, not at all,” Adler reassured. “You’re an important asset to our company. I want to make sure you’re happy.”

“Oh, well, thank you, sir,” Dean said, eye brows furrowing slightly in confusion.

“We wouldn’t want you running off to one of our competitors,” Mr. Adler continued. He grabbed a piece of paper from Dean’s memo blotter and quickly jotted something down with the pen from his breast pocket. “We’re willing to give you a great deal to keep you with us. That comes with a new company car, a bigger office, and free reign to move to any company location you want.”

Adler slid the piece of paper over to him and Dean quickly glanced at the sum written there in neat, sharp script.

“Wow,” Dean exclaimed, eyebrows rising in surprise. “That’s… wow.”

“Indeed,” Adler said. He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. “So, what do you say?”

Dean was fully ready to open his mouth and accept the offer when he paused. His eyes settled on Johnny. The baby was transfixed by the brightly colored stars hanging above him, an oddly focused scowl on his face that made Dean grin. Johnny was safe here in the office and Dean knew exactly what needed to be done to keep him that way. Dean was aware of the things that went bump in the night, how to fight them and keep them the hell away from his son. He knew about these things but…

What about those people who didn’t? How may people were out there in need of someone who knew how to help them against monsters they didn’t believe existed? Dean could be that person, to save all those people, their families. Dean suddenly realized he _needed_ to help others and there was no way he was going to be able to do that sat behind a desk.

“I really appreciate your offer, sir,” Dean said slowly, his resolve solidifying with each word he spoke. “But I’ve… I’ve got something I need to do. And I can’t do that here.”

“You can’t be serious,” Adler said, sitting forward in his chair. “This is a one time offer. You won’t be getting anything like it again.”

Dean frowned slightly, eyes flicking again to Johnny. “Yes, sir. There’s this work that I… staying here, this isn’t who I’m supposed to be.”

Adler’s lips pulled up in a twisted sort of smile. “That is exactly what I wanted to hear.”

He snapped his fingers and Dean Smith ceased to exist.

Dean Winchester returned to reality with his mind reeling and his stomach trying to eat itself. The memories that weren’t his struggled to rearrange themselves around the real ones, causing a headache to pulse behind Dean’s eyes.

“What the hell?” Dean swore, blinking in an attempt to clear his head. “What just happened? My _god_ , am I hungry.”

“Welcome back, Dean,” the old man said.

Dean frowned at him. “What just- how the hell did you do that? Who are you?”

“I’m Zachariah,” the man replied. “Castiel’s superior.”

“You’re an angel?” Dean asked.

Zachariah smirked.

“So what the hell was all this?” Dean snapped accusingly. “What, you feathered dicks need a new way to get your jollies?”

“This? This was a learning opportunity,” Zachariah answered.

“You made a fake world to teach me a lesson?” Dean inquired.

“Oh no, this is all real,” Zachariah said. “Real place, real people, real haunting. We merely dropped you in the middle of it without your memories. No knowledge to arm yourselves with.”

“And giving me a kid in all this was for extra kicks?” Dean asked, gesturing angrily at the baby in the carrier.

“Ah, about that.” Zachariah stood from his chair and moved to stand over the baby. “It would appear we ran into a… bit of a complication involving you and a certain angel.”

“Cut the crap,” Dean demanded.

“Mind your tone, boy,” Zachariah said sharply. He gripped the back of the chair, looming menacingly. “We needed a way to get you back on the right path, hence this unfortunately necessary little ruse. And while we were at it, we took the opportunity to introduce you to your son.”

Dean’s boiling rage stuttered to a complete stop. “You wanna run that by me again?”

“You’re son, Dean,” Zachariah repeated, as if that should be obvious.

“I don’t have a son,” Dean said harshly.

“Not one you ever knew about,” Zachariah said condescendingly. “And it really is an act of God that you don’t have more, given your usual proclivities.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, not impressed by Zachariah’s needling.

The angel heaved a disappointed sigh. “Due to current circumstances, your… _involvement_ with one of our angels resulted in a child.”

“You’re saying that’s my kid with an _angel_?” Dean said skeptically.

“Very good, Dean,” Zachariah mocked, clapping his hands. “We’ve been looking after your spawn for the past few months but now it’s time for you to take responsibility for your actions.”

“Take responsibility for my actions?” Dean scoffed. “I haven’t done anything. Cut the cryptic crap already. What angel are you-“

Dean stopped his rant as he remembered, a little too vividly, that stolen moment in the back seat of the Impala with Ana.

“Putting the pieces together?” Zachariah raised an eyebrow. “Nephilim are created from a union between an angel and a human. Hasn’t happened in a few thousand years. You, Winchester, should be more careful who you get in bed with.”

“Can it, feathers,” Dean snapped, anger quickly rising again.

Zachariah was in his face before Dean could even blink. “You better respect me, boy,” the angel said, each word heavy with a threat. “I can make your life miserable with a snap of my fingers.”

He raised his fingers, more than ready to snap them. “Fortunately for you, I’ve been asked to play nice.”

“ _This_ is playing nice?” Dean asked skeptically. “Brainwashing me into starving myself?”

“While that was an excellent source of entertainment,” Zachariah explained, “this was all to show you that you cannot escape this life. You _need_ to be ‘saving people’ and ‘hunting things.’”

Dean wasn’t surprised that the dick used air quotes.

Zachariah stepped back and regarded Dean with barely concealed contempt. “Now, we need you and your brother to play your part in things to come. Keep hunting. Work on protecting those seals. And we’ll call on you when we need you.”

“And what happens if we don’t?” Dean challenged.

“Well…” Zachariah moved around the desk to stand next to the baby carrier. Dean really did not like the way the angel leered down at the kid. The angel reached down to stroke the baby’s cheek and Dean felt a sick sensation in his stomach that had nothing to do with how empty it was. “We have orders to kill nephilim on sight, Dean. We’re making an exception for your little Johnny here. But we can always change our minds.”

Dean heard the threat loud and clear. The angels would leave the baby- nephilim? What the hell was that?- alone so long as he and Sam kept playing along to the angels’ tune. There was no way Dean was going to let the winged dicks hurt a kid, especially if what Zachariah said was true. Even if nephilim sounded like a made up word. The whole damn situation seemed made up for the angels to screw him over.

Dean clenched his fists, knuckles going white, and glared at Zachariah as he made his decision.

“Congratulations, Dean,” Zachariah said smugly. “It’s a boy.”

He vanished with a gust of wind, blowing some of the papers off the desk.

Dean blinked at the space where the angel had been. A sudden wave of exhaustion took over him and he collapsed into the plush leather chair behind the desk. His head was pounding, his stomach was completely empty, and all he wanted in life at that moment was a stiff drink, a greasy burger, and a long nap.

The upset baby noises reminded Dean that he had other shit to do, no thanks to the winged dicks pulling the strings upstairs.

Heavy footsteps drew Dean’s attention to the door. Sam opened the door and looked inside, looking uncertain, confused, and worried.

“What the hell just happened?” Sam asked.

“Angels,” Dean said, letting his head fall back against the chair and closing his eyes.

Sam opened his mouth to say something else but the baby cut him off with a squeal. Dean groaned as the baby started crying in earnest.

“What is that?” Sam questioned, stepping closer.

Dean sighed through his nose. “Apparently… he’s my kid.”

Sam gaped at him and Dean shrugged in reply.

“Know anything about nephilim?”

 

.:.

 

“So what you’re trying to tell me,” Bobby said skeptically, “is the angels had you both playing average Joe for three weeks and you come out of it with a kid they claim is yours.”

“Pretty much,” Dean said. He kept his eyes firmly on the beer bottle sweating in his hands. He could still feel Bobby’s disapproving glare burning a hole into his forehead.

“And they didn’t happen to mention how they got a hold of a kid you can’t remember making?” Bobby asked, plenty of implications heavy in his voice.

“They said he’s a nephilim,” Sam said, far too helpful as usual. “Half angel.”

Bobby’s eyebrows disappeared under the brim of his cap. “You idjit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Dean grumbled. He took a large gulp of beer. “Sleeping with an angel, bad idea, got it. Lesson learned.”

“I should hope so,” Bobby said, frown deepening under his beard. They all three sat in silence, staring at the baby carrier in the middle of the room. The baby had fallen asleep on the long car ride back to Bobby’s house, after they’d raided the apartment of “Dean Smith” for whatever supplies they could cram into the trunk of the Impala. And Dean was more than ready to pluck feathers after finding his car parked in a shit hole of a parking garage, barely sheltered from the elements.

“Well, if we’re not gonna do anything useful, I’m gonna get started on some research,” Bobby said, getting to his feet with a grunt.

“Research for what?” Sam asked.

“For whatever a nephilim might be capable of,” Bobby replied. He rifled through a stack of old books, pulling out a few and dropping them on his desk. “It’s probably a good idea to know what we’re up against here.”

“He’s just a _baby_ , Bobby,” Dean said, immediately defensive.

“He’s not going to stay that way,” Bobby pointed out. “And if what that angel said is true, I don’t want to be caught by surprise when he throws a tantrum and starts smiting people.”

“You did say the angels usually hunt down nephilim,” Sam noted. “That can’t be a good thing.”

Dean clenched his jaw as Sam dragged out his laptop. Un-freaking-believable. They were acting like the baby was some sort of monster they might have to hunt, not a kid. Dean’s kid. Which, ok, Dean could admit that even under much better circumstances, any kid of Dean’s should probably be treated with extreme caution. But this was ridiculous. Dean lnew the baby was harmless, had pretty much taken care of him on his own with no problems and…

But no, those were the fake memories the angels had planted. Who’s to say the baby wasn’t actually dangerous and the angels were just trying to trick them? Again. Dean knew, somewhere deep down, that he couldn’t be a fair judge on the matter. He already felt far too protective of the baby as it was. But really, Dean didn’t give a shit if Johnny was dangerous. He was Dean’s son and that meant he was family.

Watching Bobby and Sam research anyway made Dean feel sick with anger.

“I gotta get some air,” Dean announced, getting to his feet. He immediately grabbed the baby carrier from off the floor, not even thinking about it.

“Where are you going?” Sam nodded pointedly at the carrier.

“I’m not leaving him alone with you when you’re both acting like he’s a monster,” Dean all but growled. He stomped out of the house, ignoring Sam as he called his name.

Dean thought about driving off in the Impala, letting Baby’s roaring engine calm him down. The memory of trying to strap down the baby carrier in the back stopped him short. He was already far too irritated to struggle with it again for two hours.

Instead, Dean wandered into the garage and put the carrier down on one of the workbenches. Johnny was still sound asleep, head slumped onto his shoulder. Dean sat down next to him, leaning back until the edge of the table dug into his back. Free from Sam’s questions and Bobby’s constant judging looks, Dean found he could _breathe_ and try to wrap his brain around what was happening.

He had a son. A living, breathing little person that he was now in charge of. Dean would have to feed him, make sure he was dressed, and dear god, change his diapers. Dean had been too young to remember Sam in diapers or much of anything before the kid had turned four. Once John started leaving them alone for longer than a day at a time. Which was not something Dean was _ever_ going to do to his own kid. As much as Dean hated to admit it, Sam was right. The way they had been raised sucked, nowhere near how Dean ever wanted to raise his own kid.

But that was going to be difficult in the face of stopping the apocalypse. Dean’s timing was lousy. The kid’s life was pretty much screwed the moment he was born. Or hatched. Or however angels had babies. Which wasn’t really something Dean cared to think about. All Dean knew was he was so not meant to be a parent. He was too fucked up himself not to fuck up any kid left in his care. He drank too much, he was a danger to himself and everyone around him, and he had angels riding his ass like they owned it.

“We are so screwed, kid,” Dean sighed.

The baby twitched in his sleep and Dean couldn’t help but grin.

“So, I can’t promise I’m not gonna mess up your life,” Dean said, feeling only a little dumb, talking to a sleeping infant that couldn’t understand him. But he needed to get this off his chest, out in the air for _someone_ to hear. “My dad didn’t do a great job raising me and my brother but he did the best he could. I’m gonna try to do better, I swear, but you should probably get used to me breaking promises. And even if Bobby and Sam find out you can spit up fireballs or something, I don’t care. You’re my kid and that makes you family. First lesson, Johnny, nothing comes before family.”

Dean’s fingers twitched and he regarded the baby cautiously. He’d never held a baby before, not since Sam was little. He couldn’t really count his time as the angels’ suited yuppy. Those memories and knowledge about Johnny had all been planted, how was he supposed to trust that?

Taking a deep breath, Dean reached forward. The buckle keeping the baby secure very nearly defeated him but an accidental push of a button as Dean pulled on one of the straps was all it took to unlock the stupid thing. And then Dean was very carefully sliding his hands under Johnny’s little body and lifting. The baby startled out of his nap and immediately began fussing. Dean very nearly dropped him in panic. Fortunately, his body seemed to know how to react even if Dean didn’t. He managed to hold onto his son and pulled him close to his chest, one hand beneath his butt and the other supporting his head. Seems those angels had a useful reason for screwing with Dean’s head. He wouldn’t accidentally kill his son through ignorance at least.

The baby settled down almost immediately, drooling on Dean’s shoulder. It felt weird, the tiniest set of lungs rising and falling beneath his hand. The baby felt absolutely _breakable_ and Dean could not be any tenser holding him. The baby was too alert, wriggling in Dean’s arms.

“Sam will never let me live it down if I drop you, kid,” Dean muttered, cautiously moving his hand to stroke Johnny’s back. “And I don’t think being part angel makes you less easy to damage.”

Johnny gurgled in response.

Dean slowly, ever so slowly, at a rate glaciers would be jealous of, began to relax. Johnny seemed secure in his grip, content to just snuggle into Dean’s jacket. Dean started humming without really thinking about it. He began with “Smoke on the Water,” moving on to “Wheel in the Sky” after the first course and “Rambling On” a few lines into that. Johnny was quiet, hands clenching and unclenching in Dean’s shirt.

They stayed like that until the sky started changing color and Dean decided it was too cold for Johnny to stay outside. He left the carrier behind, not trusting himself just yet to hold the baby with one hand.

Inside, the house was quiet but Dean wasn’t looking forward to entering the living room. Instead, Dean decided to use his stupid angel given knowledge again to make a bottle for Johnny. Thank someone who wasn’t God for the premade crap he only had to shake. Johnny was happily guzzling away, Dean sat at the table and carefully cradling the baby in one arm when Sam appeared in the doorway.

“We found some stuff on nephilim,” Sam said simply, a frown on his face. “And you’re really not gonna like any of it.”


End file.
